Deeper
by Penguin-sama
Summary: YAOI. Sequel to Strangers. Rating for language.
1. Chapter 1

Yes, I'm aware the title sounds somewhat dirty. This isn't a dirty fic though, so sorry to disappoint. This is a sequel to the fic "Strangers." You could probably understand everything going on here even if you didn't read it, but then you'd be missing out on all the cute fluffiness I forced down my readers' throats the first time around. You don't want that, now do you?

WARNINGS: I do not own Weiss. (Surprising, ne?) This fic contains YAOI, meaning male/male relationships. It also contains strong language. I'll up the rating if anything changes that I don't know about yet.

* * *

"I'm just saying I warned you, right?" feeling sullen and disappointed, Yohji Kudoh turned his keys in the ignition. As he listened to the engine cutting itself off, he rested his elbows on the steering wheel and watched the crowd of people waiting to be seating mull around the restaurant's main entrance.

His partner remained the silent ball of ire he'd been all morning, but that didn't mean he failed to make his opinion known. Sometimes, for Aya Fujimiya, silence spoke a thousand words.

"So what if it was my idea?" Yohji demanded. Damn, but he didn't even feel like having breakfast anymore! "Just because I was a little slow getting ready doesn't mean I didn't want to go. Gods! How pathetic is your ego that you'd doubt me when _I_ was the one to plan this?"

Aya's silence took on a colder, sharper edge – and Yohji suddenly felt as if he were being pelleted by a thousand tin shards of ice.

The blonde sighed, shivering a little despite his best efforts not to. No one waiting outside to be seated looked younger than eighty. He found himself wondering when he'd sunk so low that he'd try to take a date to a five o'clock – sorry, five-thirty now, because he'd had trouble waking up – breakfast. Hardly a hip _or_ sexy choice, but he'd been desperate. He hadn't had a date with Aya in almost a month!

If he had known it would turn out like this though, would be have still bothered?

He chanced a glance at Aya. The slim man looked grumpy and disheveled, and Yohji realized it had probably been hard for _him_ to drag himself out of bed, too. Krittiker had been running Weiss ragged lately.

Even grumpy and disheveled, though, Aya was still the most beautiful creature he'd ever laid eyes on. Would Yohji still have suggested the sunrise date if he had known they would just end up fighting before it even began? Yes. Would he still want to date Aya if he had known what an unrelenting pain in the ass the man could be? Hell yes. But mostly because he _had_ known that ahead of time.

"Aya…you know I didn't mean that," Yohji sighed. Aya was far more important to him than a few hours of sleep, and he should have remembered that when the man tried to get him out of bed in the first place.

Yohji reached to take the smaller man's hand, but he might as well have been holding granite. Aya pulled away after only a few seconds.

"Do you want to go home?" Yohji asked.

Aya still refused to answer him, but he unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car nevertheless. Yohji followed him into the restaurant where, with clipped and quiet tones, the man requested a table.

"Ah – the Fujimiya reservation?" the hostess asked, checking her book.

"Reservation?" Yohji echoed.

"We were expecting you half an hour ago; we had to give your table to one of our regulars…" the hostess gave a nervous laugh at Aya's look of annoyance. "Our staff isn't used to people reserving tables for breakfast," she explained. "They must have misunderstood something. I'll go see if there's anything I can do to get you seated as quickly as possible."

Reservations. Shit. Aya, in his own sweetly awkward way, had really been excited over Yohji's stupid sunrise date idea.

"I'm sorry," Yohji said sincerely.

Aya's eyes flicked to him, then away. "I just don't think you should have asked if it wasn't really what you wanted," he said.

"I wanted to spend time with you. _That's_ what I wanted."

Aya's gaze rested on him a little longer this time. The man hesitated. "…sure?" he asked at last.

"Aya. Have you _seen_ you?"

"Hn." Aya looked away again, though he did shift a little closer. Taking that as permission to touch him, Yohji wrapped both of his arms around his shoulders from behind and pulled him close so that the smaller man's back rested against his chest. While Aya didn't exactly relax in his embrace, he didn't fight it either.

"It's been so long since we could be alone together," Yohji murmured lowly. "Don't you like me anymore?"

"I'm debating that."

"Ouch. Cut right to the heart, don't you?" Their cuddling was earning some scandalized looks from the other restaurant patrons, yet Aya still had yet to pull away. Yohji spared a moment for a private, triumphant grin. It had been nearly a month since he'd had more than a few minutes at a time alone with Aya – it was good to know Weiss' sudden influx of missions had merely stalled their infant relationship, rather than set it back. The fact that Aya was letting him touch him at all, even though he was angry at him, was an even better sign.

The hostess returned after a few moments, looking hassled and stressed, and was initially so surprised at the sight of their embrace that it took her several tries before she managed to speak.

"Ah…we've got a table ready if you want to…"

Aya didn't need further prompting – didn't wait for further excuse to leave Yohji's arms. As he moved away, following the addled hostess, Yohji reached forward and snagged a finger in a back belt loop of Aya's jeans, keeping a hold on him as he followed. Aya turned his head to glance at him, but didn't demand he let him go.

"This is perfect, thanks," Yohji said quickly as the hostess stopped them at a semi-secluded table by the windows. Though shades were drawn over said windows, the bright morning sunlight still managed to squeeze its way through. Yohji was just ready to be rid of the hostess – not wanting to waste a second of his time with Aya.

"So?" he asked after they'd been left alone with their menus.

Aya, his eyes on the list of breakfast specials, didn't even look at him. "So what?" he asked, voice blank.

"So are you gonna decide to be nice to me, or what?"

Those breathtakingly beautiful eyes rolled upwards at last, fixing on him with their usual intensity. Yohji laughed at the expression on his boyfriend's pretty face.

"Is it just me, or are you extra grumpy today?"

"Let's consider he question," Aya sat back in his seat, glaring at Yohji. "I was the last one to get home last night, and I had to stay up to help Omi with the mission report because he had homework that couldn't be put off for another night. In total I got one hour of sleep before getting back up to get ready to go out with some bimbo who kept me waiting an extra half hour because _he_ wanted to get some extra sleep. Yes, Yohji. Yes, I think I may be a tad bit 'grumpy' today."

Yohji considered it. "You think I'm a _cute_ bimbo, though, right?"

"Yohji!"

The blonde smiled, and slid his foot against Aya's leg under the table. "I know you like me," he teased.

Aya kicked at him, but as he turned his attention back to the menu, there was no mistaking the miniscule smile that spread across his lips.

"We can always take a nap when we get home," Yohji suggested.

"You get handsy when we 'nap'," Aya dismissed the idea without even giving it the consideration Yohji thought it deserved. "Besides, I have orders coming out of my ears at the shop. I don't have time for a nap."

"Ken can cover for you."

Aya's snort told him exactly what he thought of _that_ idea.

"Come on – don't be hard on me just because I'm trying to get you into bed! I promise to behave myself this time!"

"Yohji, last week you told me your room had a strict 'no pants' policy."

"A policy which _you_ violated, may I remind you."

"Yohji!"

He had finally managed to coax a smile out of the redhead. Yohji sat back, satisfied with a job well done.

"I can't help it, Aya. Rules are rules, you know. When I say no pants, I mean no pants!"

Aya's eyes rolled up from his menu to glance at him once more, and Yohji's heart leapt at the soft, fond expression he saw there. He had never once seen Aya give that look to anyone else, and though it was hard to earn it, it was always, _always_, worth the trouble.

Yohji reached across the table and Aya let him take hold of hand.

"Come on," he coaxed, "As crazy=busy as we've been lately, don't you think it'd be more time-efficient if you'd just go ahead and succumb to my manly advances?"

Aya's lips twitched into a slight smile as he continued to watch him through the thick curtain of his lashes. "I don't think you'd appreciate it if I made it too easy on you," he stated.

Yohji blinked, caught completely off guard. "A…Aya Fujimiya! Are you _flirting_ with me?"

That adorable, dare he even say 'naughty' expression vanished as if it had never been.

"No."

It was Yohji's turn to give a wicked smile, despite his boyfriend's denial.

It was hard to tell exactly how long he and the other man had been dating. Did those first, painfully awkward dates count? Had it begun with Aya's embarrassed admission of attraction? Or maybe the night they had both verbally committed themselves to a relationship? Two months, maybe, if one were feeling generous and decided to count the last month of non-stop missions, nerve-wracking close calls, and hour-upon-hour of work in the shop. As they were fighting to form a friendship alongside a romantic relationship, time had become a funny thing. Yohji didn't know, for instance, when Aya had begun to try to match his teasing, when the man had begun to feel comfortable enough to flirt with him, or allow him to hug him without hesitation. Yohji wasn't sure when he himself had stopped hesitating, stopped wondering whether or not it was all right to touch or kiss the man he was becoming so very fond of.

The only things he _was_ sure of were that he was just as addicted to the man as ever, that he would never grow tired of learning Aya's odd little quirks, and that he never got nearly enough time with him.

Yohji gave his boyfriend's hand a squeeze. "How about a temporary reprieve, at least?" he suggested hopefully. "Maybe even some kind of third base action? Just, you know, for as long as everything's so crazy. As soon as things settle down and we can go more than two days without getting a new mission you can put me back on lock down – make me beg for each and every little kiss, just the way you like it. Unless…"

"Unless?" Aya repeated.

"Unless you're just scared that if you give me a fair chance you won't be able to resist becoming my panting, desperate love slave." Yohji waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Yes," Aya said flatly. "Yes, Yohji, that is _exactly_ what I am afraid of."

"Seriously?"

"No."

"Mean!" Yohji whined playfully, leaning across the table. He held Aya's gaze as if those violet eyes held the very secrets of the universe within their dark depths. "How will you _ever_ sooth my hurt feelings now?"

"I'm sure you have something in mind."

"Mmmm…."

"I'll be right there to take your orders!" a waitress, struggling with a tray covered with coffee cups and breakfast plates, called – ruining the moment with Yohji only inches away from Aya's lips.

Aya frowned at him, looking as if he suspected Yohji of trying to trick him. Yohji pulled on his hand, forcing him forward, and shamelessly stole that interrupted kiss.

"Nh…Yohji…"

"Oh!"

The waitress' loud gasp was the only waning they had. She had been passing by their table, still laden with her precarious burden, when the man at the table next to theirs suddenly pushed his chair back, hitting her and throwing her off balance. Her tray and all of its contents came spilling down – a good portion of the hot coffee splashing over Aya.

"I'm so sorry!" the waitress cried, grabbing up handfuls of napkins. Yohji's attempts to reassure her that they were fine were halfhearted at best - so frustrated was he over his bad luck this morning. Aya was just loosening up, damn it!

"Did you get burned, Aya?" he asked, noticing that the man had wrapped the napkin around one hand.

"I am _so_ sorry!" the waitress said again. Her nametag read Judi, and she looked to be on the verge of tears. "Are you okay?"

"I've _fine_." Aya jerked his hand away as Yohji tried to check it.

"I think we have some ointment in the kitchen!"

Yohji barely noticed as she hurried away. He moved to the other side of the table and grabbed Aya's wrist. Though the man glared, he didn't try to pull away as Yohji took a look at his hand. The skin was red and angry, but not blistering. Though he had no doubt it was painful, it wasn't anything serious.

"Do you want to go to the bathroom and run some cold water over it?" Yohji asked.

"I _told _you," Aya's voice was tight, "I'm _fine_."

Yohji glanced at the table beside them, realizing belatedly that the man responsible for the accident had yet to offer an apology, despite the fact there was no way he could have missed the commotion.

"Yohji…" Aya had followed his gaze and guessed his train of thoughts. His voice was full of disapproval.

The bastard responsible was younger than most of the restaurant's patrons – maybe just a year or two older than Yohji himself – and he was sitting calmly reading a newspaper, completely unconcerned with the chaos he had caused.

Aya grabbed his arm. "Kudoh."

"Least he could do is _apologize_!" he said loudly enough for the man – and, in truth, half the restaurant – to overhear.

Aya squeezed his arm, digging nails into skin. "I don't need you playing vengeful boyfriend!" he hissed.

"But - !"

"_No_, Kudoh."

They were spared further argument as the waitress returned with a veritable army of coworkers armed with cleaning supplies and a first aid kit. The manager came over and promised to comp their meal, then offered to move them to a new table.

Yohji hung back a little as they were led away. He times himself carefully, waiting for the bastard who had caused the accident to raise his coffee cup to take a sip. Only then did Yohji move, purposefully bumping the back of his chair along the way so that the man spilled his coffee all over himself.

He glanced over his shoulder after he had passed, wanting to assess the damage. Satisfied by the large brown stain on the once-white t-shirt, he offered the clearly-outraged man a grin and a shrug and continued on his way.

"You couldn't even try to be mature, could you?" Aya demanded after they had been settled in their new seats and their orders had been taken.

"Saw me do that, huh?"

Aya rolled his eyes. "You're impossible."

"I know, I know. I might be impossible, though, but you have to admit I'm also irresistible. Even now all you can think about is picking up where we left off, am I right?"

"Not quite."

"Excuse me?" the bastard who had caused the accident had approached their new table, looking furious.

Yohji leaned back in his seat, grinning brazenly up at the angry jerk. He had an insulting, smart-assed comment ready on his lips, prepared to rip into the bastard for his rudeness…

And then Aya looked up, glaring, and both Yohji and the asshole found themselves frozen in place.

Yohji watched the surprise flash in the man's eyes. Aya was a stunningly gorgeous man, but somehow he was incredibly talented at hiding it. Yohji wasn't sure if it was his glares or his silences, but somehow Aya managed to never stand out as much as someone as beautiful as he was rightfully should.

That look in the stranger's eyes meant that he had noticed, however belatedly, just how gorgeous Aya really was.

"Ah…" the fucktard in question cleared his throat, shaking his head. "I'm sorry. I believe an apology is in order."

"Damn right," Yohji began.

"No, I mean _I_ should apologize."

"I wasn't offering ass-hat!"

He ignored the blonde, totally focused on Aya. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"He's abso-fucking-lutely _fine_, so get lost," Yohji growled.

"Can I pay for your meal?" the bastard asked Aya.

"It's already been taken care of." Aya dismissed the man, ignoring him as if he'd ceased to exist entirely. It was one of the many tricks in the Aya Fujimiya repertoire, and Yohji had had it used on him often enough to know just how very effective it was.

Still, despite himself, Yohji felt relief that Aya hadn't responded in a more friendly manner. He offered the man his biggest grin. "Thanks so much for the concern though," he said, nowhere near sincere. "Now get lost. This is a private date."

Aya kicked him under the table.

* * *

tbc

Anyone who reads my lj will know this little fic has been giving me trouble. But sometimes just gritting my teeth and fighting through it is the best way to go, as sometimes my reviewers send me down twists I never would have gotten to on my own. (Yes! It's all your fault! I blame Inferno on the reviewers!!)

Anyway, I promise to try to keep updates semi-regularly, and will also strive to answer reviews. Don't be shy.


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks to everyone who read the first chapter. Even more thanks to everyone who reviewed.

* * *

"Oh, come on! You are such a tease!"

"_How_? How am I a tease? How the hell does me telling you to stop-fucking-groping me constitute being a tease?"

Yohji didn't even pause to think about it. "Because," he answered, sounding all-knowing and absolutely confident of his natural rightness, "If you really _meant_ it you wouldn't look so adorable while you said it. Tease."

Aya sighed and rolled his eyes as he felt the blonde plaster himself against his back, arms going tight around his waist and hands shoving themselves _under_ his sweater. Clearly taking the time to stop to fish his keys out of his pocket had been a mistake. Clearly he should have just grabbed a brick and smashed in a window to gain entrance into the house. Yohji was usually overly-affectionate anyway, but ever since they had left the restaurant he'd been damned clingy. The warmth of him, the brightness, even the comfort of his weight was almost too much to face all at once. Aya felt dangerously close to human.

"Kudoh," he warned. "You're heavy. Get off."

The damned man merely rubbed his face against Aya's hair, tightening his ridiculously long arms. "I just want to be _close_ to you," he reasoned in what was damn near a purr. "Is that so bad?"

And closer and they'd be sharing the same skin, Aya thought with irritation. Did the damned man not realize he could _feel_ him through the fabric of their jeans?

"Kudoh," he gave his warning a second time, and fought not to shiver with pleasure as he felt Yohji's lips against his neck.

"I don't want to go back to real life yet," the blonde whined.

Aya had to put out a hand to brace himself against the door as Yohji tried to press closer still. He could feel happiness stirring deep in soul – could feel the temptation to give in, to accept the brightness, the comfort, the safety Yohji Kudoh represented – and he did his best to squash it back into place.

"So you're going to have your way with me right here against the back door?" he demanded. How had he forgotten how much hornier – and thus harder to deal with – the man was in the mornings?

As if to emphasize the thought, Yohji shifted, grinding himself against him suggestively. "You don't think that sounds like fun?"

"Kudoh!" try as he might, he couldn't get the blonde octopus off of him. He managed to turn around in Yohji's arms, but that just gave the damned idiot access to his lips. Somehow over the course of their weird little relationship Yohji had learned how to sense when Aya was at his weakest – when protests were not quite heartfelt and glares could be brushed aside without fear of violence. He pushed Aya up against the door, trapping him even more helplessly, and despite his best efforts to stop it a laugh escaped Aya's lips. "S…stop that!" he protested. Damn it if he wasn't smiling.

Yohji's lascivious grin meant he knew he was winning.

"I'm sorry, baby, but you just taste so delicious!" he murmured, lips taking liberal advantage of Aya's neck.

He couldn't summon the will to push him away. A glare, however, was manageable. "You just had breakfast," Aya growled, one hand fisting in the cloth of Yohji's jacket. If only the damned man hadn't discovered that _one_ spot behind his ear…

"And now I get dessert…"

"You don't get dessert after breakfast!"

"Who says?"

"Ngh…" Aya really had once had a much more intelligent argument ready, but he could only fight Yohji's light and warmth for so long before he began to forget all the reasons he needed to be careful with the man. The best he could manage was a grunted "Idiot."

Yohji chuckled and the deep, knowing sound was nearly enough to undo him completely. The blonde pressed sinfully closer.

"I'm a grown man," Yohji pointed out – although Aya could already feel proof of that against his hip. "I think I should get my dessert whenever I damn well want it…"

Aya found himself unable – or maybe, just maybe, that was unwilling – to answer. Yohji awoke things in him that Aya had even been aware he was _capable_ of feeling, and sometimes his body simply refused to listen to his brain when the sexy blonde was so damned _close_. The scent of his cologne made his head spin. The feel of his hands, so desperately searching for bare skin, stole his breath. His lips…his _lips_…

Yohji Kudoh was an unstoppable force of light, scoring his soul and searing away every shadow he could find. He invaded Aya's senses so powerfully sometimes that it was absolutely terrifying – almost, _almost_, making him forget. It wasn't just frightening, it was damned _dangerous_ – even moreso in the fact that Aya knew that somewhere deep down, so far hidden in his soul that he hadn't known it was there, there was a part of him that _wanted_ it. Despite his best attempts, Aya enjoyed – no, even _loved_ – the invasion. Somehow some part of him wanted that cleansing light to burn away everything that he had become.

Oh, but the freedom offered by a mind clouded with lust! What a wondrous thing it was to pass a few precious seconds without the ghouls of the past sitting on his shoulders! It was so wrong of him, sinful even, to forget even for a moment what he was, and yet he was allowing it to happen more and more often. He was, far too happen, _happy_, even though happiness was the last thing he deserved.

The thought sent a freezing wave down to his soul, pushing back the bright heat that was trying to invade his heart.

"Stop it," he ordered, with far less authority than he would have liked. "We need to get to work." Damn it, was his voice actually _breathy_? No wonder the perverted bastard thought he could take such liberties! "Yohji, leave me alone. I don't…don't want…ah!"

He hadn't thought it was possible for the blonde to press any closer, but the damned man managed it. "Just a little longer," he pled, resting his forehead against Aya's shoulder. "The minute we go inside, the reality's just gonna come crashing back…just let me play with you a little longer."

Yohji sounded sincere, which was the worst weapon the bastard had in his arsenal. Aya tightened his hold on his shirt, still lacking the strength to push him away. "Kudoh…"

"You know I have an addiction to you!" as quickly as it had gone the playfulness was back, making things just a little easier. "Don't be cruel!"

It was easier to breath when Yohji wasn't being so damned serious. Ready to summon his reserves and shove the man off of him, Aya was surprised to find his other arm wrapped around Yohji's waist, holding him close. Damned traitorous limb. And what the hell was his leg doing? He didn't have time to contemplate the effect on his swordsmanship if he cut them off, however, because the door they were propped against suddenly opened, sending him stumbling backwards. Yohji, who either had been standing too close to move in time or else had just been too lazy to, fell with him.

"Not this again!" the disgusted groan from the one who had opened the door completely eclipsed Aya's grunt of pain. "Do you two have to do this kind of thing first thing in the morning? I just ate!"

"Mornin' chibi," Yohji greeted, sitting up on Aya's hips and ignoring the smaller man's nearly frantic attempts to get him to move. How could the damned blonde look so casual after something so humiliating? "Up awfully early, aren't you?"

"It's called school, Yotan." Omi was not immune to the exhaustion the recent overbooking of missions had caused in the men of Weiss, and his answer came out clipped and annoyed.

"Y'know, it's really irresponsible of Krittker to make you keep going when you they've got you out every night on missions," Yohji mused.

Not to mention that Omi was still working full shifts in the flowershop too, Aya realized with a flash of guilt. Just last weekend the kid had had to do surveillance on a twisted drug-testing facility, help supply _and_ deliver flower arrangements to no less than four weddings, _and_ write a ten page term paper. Aya made a mental note to cut back on the teen's hours. It would mean more in-shop work for the rest of them, but they didn't have high school to deal with. Aya would make sure at least one member of Weiss got his diploma.

"You look like you're squishing Ayan," Omi said with a tired sigh, ignoring the older blonde's statement. "Will you get out of the doorway so I can leave?"

"You're mean when you're grumpy," Yohji groused, climbing off without further prompting. They both knew Omi could also be quite violent when sleep-deprived.

Aya ignored the hand his boyfriend offered to help him up. It was only after he'd risen that he'd realized that somewhere in the course of getting groped that damned idiot Yohji had managed to unfasten his pants without his noticing. He glared at the blonde as he turned to fix his clothing, but not before catching sight of Omi's expression – some mixture of amusement and annoyance.

Aya had never wanted to tell their roommates about their relationship. He had never been the type to willingly broadcast his personal business and, more, he didn't want to be forced to endure anyone's pity when Yohji came to his senses and broke it off.

They hadn't slept together yet, and they'd been so busy lately that their relationship had barely progressed past its first awkward stages (save for the fact that Yohji no longer seemed to fear him, which was more inconvenient than anything else). Yet, despite it all, Aya found himself impossibly happy with the idiotic, perverted, impossible blonde.

In Aya's experience, such a high level of joy was sure to soon be met with disaster. He was happy so, naturally, it wasn't going to last. He didn't deserve for it to last, and he would one day have to pay for the sin of allowing it to happen in the first place. Yohji would break up with him, or be killed, find someone else he wanted, or be assigned to another team. Invariably the shoe was going to drop, and try as Aya might to minimalize the damage, he was incapable of completely fighting off the urge to…_feel_…for the other man.

The one time he had tried to voice his fear, Yohji had laughed, called him a paranoid bastard, and told him he was never getting rid of him.

So they'd told the team. Ken had, of course, already caught them in more than a few compromising positions, and Yohji had blatantly kissed Aya in front of Omi on more than one occasion, so they were not exactly shocked by the revelation. Ken, of course, was still unhappy with their choice, and with good cause. They all knew that Krittiker did not look kindly on such attachments forming between teammates. There was a very good chance Weiss could be reassigned if the higher-ups ever caught a whiff of the relationship. As for Omi, whatever he thought about the arrangement he wasn't sharing. He seemed more embarrassed than annoyed when he caught them together.

"Why don't you just skip school today, chibi?" Yohji suggested. Aya wondered if the man considered it his mission in life to corrupt others.

Luckily, Omi wasn't one to fall under the spell of bad influences. "I can't afford to miss any more days this year, Yotan," he snapped. "Do you have any idea how far behind I am on my homework as it is?"

"You're such a hard worker. It's depressing."

"Why? Because you've never tried it?" the door slammed closed behind him. Yohji looked at Aya with raised eyebrows and Aya had to once again fight the urge to smile at the man.

"You know better than to goad him," he said coldly. He shook off the arm that tried to wrap around him, elbowing Yohji in the ribs when he failed to take the first hint.

"Gods, Aya!" Yohji yelped. "Could you be any more vicious? I think that was my spleen!"

"You know better than to goad me, too."

"Mean son of a bitch!" Yohji pretended to pout for a moment before reaching for Aya once again. If nothing else, the idiot was persistent. Having the upper hand on both height and weight he managed to capture both of Aya's wrists after only a little bit of a scuffle, thereby preventing him from further violence. Aya allowed him to kiss him, but refused to part his lips for him no matter how he fought to tempt him. Yohji pulled away after only a moment, laughing. "Mean _stubborn_ son of a bitch!"

"I'm giving you fair warning, Kudoh. If you do not release me, I will bite you."

Yohji's eyes flared with mischief and it was imminently clear just how much effort it took for him to hold his tongue. He had learned the hard way that Aya did not often make idle threats.

"_Cruel_, mean, stubborn son of a bitch," the blonde murmured softly, fondly. "Does this mean our date is over now?"

"Yes."

"Aya…"

"I have work to do. So do you."

"Yeah, but it's still really early. Don't you think we have a _little_ time for a snuggle?"

"No."

Aya didn't give him the chance for further argument. He broke Yohji's hold on his wrists and left the kitchen for the shop, located in the front of the building. He pulled his apron from its hook and put it on, tying the strings around his waist as he moved to boot up the computers. It wasn't long before Yohji came to join him – whistling cheerfully as he tied on his own apron. Aya watched him warily from the corner of his eye, but the blonde was all sunshine and innocence as he helped get the shop ready for opening.

Aya wasn't buying it for a second, but a glance at the clock told him that he _really_ didn't have time to interrogate and/or threaten his boyfriend. He put a fresh cash drawer in the register as Yohji too-cheerfully dragged out the sales displays. He set out the new seedlings and Yohji began to water the plants.

Each moment that passed without a word, lingering glance, or inappropriate touch from Yohji only served to further convince Aya that the idiot had something planned. He was trying too damned hard to put Aya at ease.

It was with much apprehension that Aya moved to the worktable in the back to begin on the day's arrangements. It was isolated and quiet back there and customers wouldn't be able to sneak up on him. Yohji almost _never_ left him in peace when he was back there. It didn't matter how busy the shop was – Yohji was a master at finding time to annoy him. Aya couldn't allow himself the luxury of dropping his guard for a single moment. Since their free time had become so rare, he and Yohji had begun taking all of their shifts at the shop together. Aya _knew_ how his boyfriend operated.

He worked steadily on the morning's orders, but worry about being tackled by Yohji distracted him. More, the hand that had been burned at breakfast was still sore. He wasn't making the kind of progress with his work that he had come to expect from himself. Worse still, he was interrupted numerous times when the shop became too busy for Yohji to handle on his own. Two hours into the shift and he was already stressed, annoyed, angry, and exhausted.

It was almost a relief when, during a gap between customers, Yohji finally made his move.

"Wow! It's been a while since I've seen a glare _that_ scary!" he said by way of greeting.

"I don't have ime to play with you right now, Kudoh."

"You don't have to stop on account of little ole me," the blonde assured him. Aya wondered how the damned man managed to make his voice so soothing. "I just wanted to, you know, check on you. I guess. You look stressed."

"Understatement."

Yohji gave a quiet laugh, resting his rear on the worktable. "I'm sorry," he said. "When I suggested we get together this morning, I honestly thought it would make your day better. I know you've been under a lot of strain lately."

He was being sincere. Grateful, Aya lowered his shields a little. He doubted he would be able to handle being teased at the moment.

"I do appreciate the thought."

"I really care about you Aya. I want you to know that."

"You're either an idiot or a liar, then."

Yohji gave a laugh, his eyes filled with warmth as he looked at Aya. The swordsman found himself feeling marginally better.

"If you're waiting for an apology, you're wasting your time," Aya said gruffly, returning back to his work.

Yohji laughed again, rising and moving to circle around behind Aya. The redhead nearly groaned when Yohji began to massage his shoulders.

"What apology?" he asked lightly. "For your charming personality? Sorry to disappoint, but I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to date you."

Aya closed his eyes and leaned his head back, melting. Gods but the man had good hands.

"I did want to ask about that thing we were talking about earlier, though."

"Ngh?"

Yohji's thumbs dug deeply into his shoulders, working out the tight knots he found there. "About, you know, not making me work so hard to get close to you," he clarified, sounding just a little uncomfortable.

"You just want sex," Aya grunted.

Those far-too-talented hands worked their way up into Aya's hair, fingers running through the soft strands.

"Don't get me wrong, Aya. I want you – bad – but your ass isn't what I'm after right now."

"Oh, no?"

"I want _all_ of you, not just your body. We decided this was real, remember? I want to know you, Aya – I want to know everything about you." Yohji leaned down, his lips brushing the back of Aya's neck. "I just want a fair chance."

"I _am_ giving you a chance. This was _my_ idea, remember?"

"Just because you had the smarts to think of it first doesn't mean it's somehow less important to me. Trust me, I woulda' gone after you eventually."

"I…know that." The first part, anyway. The whole thing was terribly hard to believe though. It was incredibly difficult to accept that this beautiful, exciting, amazing man wanted _him_.

Yohji's breath brushed his ear, making him shiver. "Then why are you still testing me?" he asked softly.

"I…" Aya found he couldn't answer. His heart felt as if it had stopped in his chest. "Do you regret getting involved with me?" he asked at last.

"No way in hell!" Yohji's arms slid around his shoulders. "This may come as a shock to you, but I happen to kind of like you."

Aya couldn't move, couldn't think. "I…" he hesitated. "I like you, too."

"You'd better, after everything you put me though. Bastard."

Aya swallowed hard, emotion like a stone in his throat. "I'll try to do better," he promised.

Yohji gave him a squeeze, planted a kiss on his cheek, and released him, returning to his work just as a customer came through the door. Aya found he had to squeeze his eyes shut and take a few deep breaths, hiding his trembling hands under the table, and even then it was several long moments before he was able to return to work himself.

* * *

tbc


	3. Chapter 3

I lost the original version of this chapter, so it had to be rewritten from memory. I hope it works.

* * *

"Hallelujah!"

"Yohji?"

The blonde in question yanked his apron over his head and tossed it unceremoniously in a corner, unconcerned with the stares of his teammates. "Clock reads five, bitches. I am officially off the clock!" More importantly, not only was it five, but it was five _and Manx had failed to make an appearance at the shop_. Although not unheard of, it was rare for her to come any later, knowing that she had less chance of finding all of the men of Weiss in the same place if she did so. They had finished off a mission just the night before – her not showing up with a new one meant they would have at least one night off.

The thought made him excited in more ways than one. Yohji cast about for Aya just in time to see the small man duck through the door marked 'employees only' and into the Weiss kitchen. He let out a cowboy-style whoop of joy that completely startled one of the shop's last remaining customers and began to follow.

Omi stopped him, thrusting a mop into his chest.

"Not so fast."

"Eh, no way chibi. You and Kenken are closing tonight."

"Not quite, Yotan," the kid did a fine job of smiling and looking threatening at the same time. "Don't you remember four weeks ago? You got drunk and wanted to play cards for chores?"

That did sound vaguely familiar. "Uh…" Yohji took a step back, not liking the way his teammate's eyes had lit up at the prospect. "I don't recall."

"Oh, come on, Yotan, I'm sure you do," Omi smiled. "You threw all kinds of weird, unnecessary chores in there too, hoping Aya would win them, but then he refused to play, remember?"

"That's right!" Ken, the jackass, just _had_ to pipe up. "You still owe me a fancy dinner, a foot massage, and three hours of something called 'assisted showering'."

"And seeing as how you'd probably get arrested for trying to do what you promised _me_," Omi said, "I suggest you substitute taking my closing shifts for the rest of the week instead. Unless you had your heart set on…" looking far too innocent, he pulled the I.O.U. in question out of his pocket, tilting his head as he read it. A look of disgust crossed his face. "Oh, Yotan, I'm sure Ayan wouldn't go for that even if he _had_ been playing!"

"_Fine!_ Damned brat!" Yohji grabbed the card from him and shoved it into his own pocket after a quick glance to judge just how drunk he'd been on the night in question. The answer seemed to be 'very.'

Happy with his results, Omi took off to do homework, or whatever the hell it was he did when he got a spare moment. The kid was almost skipping on his way out.

Unfortunately, Ken thought redeeming the I.O.U.s was a good idea, and was able to take off soon afterwards, leaving Yohji with not only all of the closing duties, but also a three-page list of odd jobs "for just whenever you can get to them, buddy."

By the time Yohji was finally able to lock up the shop and turn off the lights, Aya was long gone.

Yohji was going to fucking kill his roommates.

* * *

"Forgive me…" the words seemed so hollow, so inadequate. He'd felt the need to say them so often lately that they were beginning to lose all meaning.

The hand he clutched in his own was small and pale and cold. It wavered as he stared at it – the result of building moisture in his own eyes. His only sanctuary, his place of rest, and he was beginning to doubt his suitability to enter it. Less than ever did he deserve to sit vigil at her side, to listen to the quiet pulse and beep of the machines that monitored her, to watch the sun rise or set across her unchanging features.

"Forgive me…" he whispered again, unable to voice anything else. There was too much, too much to tell her, and she would never understand.

His punishment for living was blood and destruction, a life in the shadows, a life of steel. When he was finished paying his dept, his life would end. That was the truth he had accepted long ago. He would continue to fight, to destroy the evils of the world, until he had paid the debt for his own evil. For continuing to live when she was trapped forever in sleep.

He deserved the darkness. He deserved the pain.

Warmth, joy, light – he had denied himself these things for so long. He had closed himself off, pushed them away. Those were treats that should be reserved only for the good, the worthy. Not for men steeped in darkness and death. Not for men who continued to taint themselves nightly with blood.

"I'm too weak…"

He couldn't say no. When he should have pushed the light away, he had welcomed it back into his heart. When he should have fled the warmth, he had instead basked in it. Such liberties, such disrespect for those who were gone!

"It's unforgivable, I know…"

Aya had escaped work as soon as he was able. Escaping Yohji hadn't nearly been so easy, but desperation and necessity made men creative.

He'd thought he could allow himself a taste of the light. Allow Yohji into his life, carve out a tiny place for him in his heart. Just a little taste of the humanity he had been denying himself. Just the tiniest fraction of warmth to make the long winter a little more bearable. He hadn't thought about what it would mean for Yohji. He hadn't realized how the man operated – that all or nothing was a way of life for him. Aya couldn't simply touch the light, he had to let it engulf him – or else lose it forever.

"But I can't stop myself."

Yohji talked about addiction when he wanted to get his way. _Let's make out – you know I'm addicted to you, baby_. He was teasing, or trying to flatter, or maybe just trying to find an excuse for his hedonism. He had no way of knowing how very close to the mark he was. He would never have believed how Aya had come to yearn for his attention like some pathetic dog. How sometimes at night he was tormented by the thought of the blonde just down the hall.

"If I don't let him in, I could lose him," Aya bowed his head over his sister's hand, disgusted with his own weakness. "I _can't_ go back into darkness," he whispered. He wouldn't be able to survive it. Push Yohji away _now_, when he had come to depend on him so much? Go back to the solitude and the shadows and the ice? _Stop_ feeling?

He recognized that he could never be fully human again. Too much blood stained his hands, his heart, and his soul. Having the audacity to be so happy tainted him even more than being a murderer did. Day by day he was pushing himself even farther away from his sister.

"But I don't have the right to share the same air with you anyway," he reasoned. "Even without…_him_." Even as a shadow and a ghost. He had already lost the right to see Aya-chan's smile…so did it really matter that he now chose to trespass so terribly? He was damned either way, wasn't he? And if Yohji made the burden just a little lighter, a little easier to bear, then…

"Unforgivable as it is, I just don't have the _strength_."

He stayed for as long as he dared. The nurses became concerned for him if he stayed at his sister's side for too long – and with good reason. Years ago, while he's been struggling with the decision of joining a Krittiker team that used lethal force, he'd once come to his sister's side and refused to be moved for days. He'd stared at her, unblinking, battling with his personal demons, and fought anyone who came too near. Contrary to what those who knew him might think, the decision to take life had not been an easy one – and neither had the decision to leave Crashers. He had sat there without moving, without eating or sleeping, for three days before at last losing consciousness. They'd kept him for a week, and to this day he still had to go in for Krittiker-assigned psychiatric evaluations once a month.

It was dark when he left the hospital, and the weather was incredibly cold. Aya had been too panic-stricken to risk driving himself to the hospital after leaving the house, but at least he'd managed to remember to bring a coat. A Christmas present from Yohji, it was fawn-colored and long enough to reach nearly to his ankles. Yohji had claimed he'd bought it for just such a purpose – knowing all too well Aya's bad habit of preferring to walk to his chosen location no matter the weather. He'd sprayed it down with his favored cologne before giving it to him, and even now it still smelled of the man. Aya pulled the faux-fur collar up around his ears, taking in the scent, letting himself feel the texture and the warmth. Even the weight of the coat reminded him of his boyfriend – an echo of the feel of him wrapping himself around his body.

Tonight he was numb to the comfort the coat usually offered. He welcomed the numbness. It grew with each breath, each step, each mile, and he was grateful for it, for he knew it wouldn't last. He knew that the next time he saw Yohji, the man would make him feel again. He would feel happy, he would feel safe, and he would feel alive – however little he felt he deserved those things. More, he knew that the next time he was alone he would feel the exact opposite. He would feel frightened, he would feel damned. More than anything, he would feel disgusted with his own weakness. For now, the numbness was a dear friend, to be embraced and appreciated for however long it lasted.

The kitchen clock read eleven o'clock as he slipped into the Weiss house. Someone, presumably Omi, had left a light on for him, but the house was otherwise dark and silent. Clearly none of his teammates had been willing to waste the opportunity of a quiet night. Aya couldn't blame them; he was aching for bed himself.

Yohji's bedroom door was shut upstairs. For a moment Aya considered, then rejected the idea of knocking. The man needed his rest as much as anyone. And _rest_ would be the last thing the blonde would want to do if he learned of Aya's decision. Omi's was the only door with light coming out under it. Quiet music accompanied the light. Aya wondered how long the teen had been studying for, and passed by without disturbing him.

Aya entered his own room silently, and didn't bother to turn on the main overhead light. He crossed the room in darkness, relying on memory and his own meticulous cleaning habits to keep himself from potential harm. He was too cold to sleep in the nude, so by feel alone he fished a pair of pajamas out of his dresser, and changed clothes in the darkness. Too exhausted to care about tidiness, he left his discarded clothing piled on the floor, only taking the time to put away his precious coat. He even brushed his teeth in darkness, unwilling to turn on the light and face his reflection in the mirror.

He shut off the faucet, felt for the cup he kept his toothbrush in, and wiped his mouth on a hand towel.

It was only as he was leaving the bathroom that he realized there was someone in his bed.

The soft sound of breathing, the shift of a body on the mattress. Aya froze, wondering if he could find his katana without turning on the light, or if he would have to risk it. It was his room – he would have that advantage, at least, in the darkness. Without it, he and the intruder would be on more equal footing.

Aya began to move toward the closet, hand extended toward the corner where he kept his sword propped. The body in the bed shifted again. Aya stretched as far as he could, fingertips brushing the strap of his sword's carrying case –

"Nh – Aya?"

He froze, heartbeat in his ears. The intruder shifted again and he could vaguely make out the outline of a man sitting up in the bed.

"Aya?" Yohji asked again. "Issat you?"

Aya straightened, leaving his sword where it rested. "What the hell are you doing in here?" he hissed.

He heard the man give a small laugh. "Jus meant t' wait for you. Didn't mean t' fall 'sleep," he muttered, sounding as if he still hadn't quite woken up. "Sorry."

Aya fought to calm his heartbeat, fought not to think about the fact he could and would have killed the blonde had he not woken up and identified himself in time. He approached the bed slowly. "What?"

"Jus' worried 'bout you," Yohji yawned. "Wanted t'…t' make sure you got home."

Light from a streetlight outside his window let Aya get a better look at the man. He frowned. "You didn't even get under the sheets. It's cold in here."

"Tol' you…didn't mean t' fall asleep." Yohji shifted as if to get up, then suddenly flopped back down, throwing an arm up over his eyes with a laugh. "Sorry…so tired…don't wanna get up."

"Then don't."

"Eh?"

Gathering his courage, Aya climbed into the bed beside him. He could feel Yohji staring at him as he helped him under the sheets.

"_Really_?" the blonde sounded awed.

"Why not? You're already here."

The man kissed him, sloppily, sleepily, throwing an arm around him. "Sweet, sweet Aya," he mumbled, snuggling close and burying his face against Aya's neck. "No idea how sweet…always wanted…bed…"

Aya sighed, and wondered how he'd ever manage to fall asleep.

* * *

tbc


	4. Chapter 4

So much love to everyone who read and reviewed last chapter. You make the transition back into posting so much easier. I'm finding I have to make a conscious effort to find the time to work on my fics, but I don't mind it at all when I know I have my lovely reviewers supporting me.

* * *

It was hunger that woke Yohji. He'd been too worried over Aya's sudden disappearance the night before to bother with dinner, and his belly was making its protests known now.

He couldn't stop a smile when he realized he had woken in Aya's bed. The small swordsman was still deeply asleep, curled up sweetly against Yohji's body with one hand clutching at the cloth of Yohji's shirt. A glance at the clock showed it was still shamefully early. There would be time for a leisurely breakfast and even a hot shower before the morning shift at the shop began. Yohji ghosted a kiss against Aya's lips and decided against waking him. The blonde could handle the shift alone for a few hours – Aya had done it himself enough times, after all. And Aya needed the rest.

Yohji couldn't resist stealing a second kiss, sending up a fervent prayer that he would be able to spend many more mornings like this – waking wp with Aya at his side. He had to literally force himself out of the bed.

His quick shower required the use of every last bit of his control to keep from fantasizing about what _could_ have happened in that bed if only they hadn't had to work that morning and he'd had the leisure to stay at Aya's side. Thinking about the missed possibilities would only make the day impossible to endure.

It was too damn early to break into the heavy liquor anyway – _especially_ if he planned to earn brownie points with Aya by working his shift for him.

"Morning, Yotan," Omi greeted with a yawn, coming down the stairs into the kitchen while Yohji had his head buried in the refrigerator – searching for something to eat for breakfast. The more he thought about what he'd left upstairs in the bed, the more he considered covering his cereal with beer instead of milk.

"Mornin' chibi," Yohji closed the fridge, deciding cereal was too risky a meal choice. Toast, then. Toast would be safe. Right?

"Coffee ready yet?" the teen asked.

_Gods_! The _last_ thing Yohji needed was another stimulant!

"Haven't even started it yet, chibi," he answered, reaching for the bread.

"Is Ayan already in the shop?" Omi stifled another yawn into the sleeve of his school uniform as he began to fill the coffee pot with water. "I don't know how he does it."

"He's sleeping in today. I made sure of it!" Yohji put his bread in the toaster, then turned, resting his rear against the counters as he waited for his breakfast.

Omi was staring at him, mouth working soundlessly. At last he managed a vague sort of squeaking sound. Yohji grinned.

"He's just _so_ exhausted – could barely keep his eyes open after I finished with him last night. So I'm gonna cover for him today."

"You _don't_ mean that you - ?"

Yohji shrugged, still grinning. "Who knows?"

"Yohji!"

"It would make me a complete bastard if I went into any kind of detail…"

"You _didn't_ - ?"

He shrugged again. "Maybe, maybe not. Aya's still in bed…why don't you run upstairs and take a peek into his room? You know, make sure he's not in here all naked and ravaged."

Omi stared at him a moment longer, then shook his head. The embarrassed expression left his face. "You didn't do anything," he decided, returning his attention to making coffee.

"You sure?"

"You wouldn't be bragging about it if you had," he explained dismissively. "You love Ayan too much to do something as despicable as that."

It was Yohji's turn to be surprised.

They were just sitting down to eat when Ken came stumbling downstairs. Mumbling something about an early practice match, he made a beeline for the coffee pot and drank one mug down while still standing at the counter.

"How do you do that without scalding yourself?" Omi asked as he and Yohji stared at him in morbid fascination.

Ken shrugged, refilled his mug, and made his way to the table. "Where's Aya?"

"Don't ask!" Omi warned, giving Yohji a Look. The blonde merely grinned.

"What is there to eat?" Ken asked, sitting down.

"Whatever you can find. I haven't had the chance to make it to the store in a while," Omi lifted his mug to take a sip of coffee, then stopped, eyes glinting wickedly. "Of course, since Yotan was the first one up, he really _should_ go out and get breakfast for the rest of us. Don't you think?"

"Isn't it about time for you to head to school, chibi?"

"I don't need to leave for another hour."

A stare-down with Omi never ended well. Sure he started things fairly, but he had no shame when it came to pulling out the big guns – batting those stupid big eyes and resorting to that evilly adorable pout.

"Damn it!" Yohji cursed, rising. "You are such a bitch, Omi! Did you know that? You hide it, but I'm not fooled – not for an instant!"

"Doughnuts will be fine, Yotan!" Omi laughed, waving him away. "I want one with sprinkles!"

Ken barely raised his mouth from his coffee as he made his own request. "I want chocolate."

"You're both a pair of evil fucks!" Yohji jerked the door open roughly.

He stopped short, surprised by the sight of the redheaded woman just reaching for the door.

"Manx!"

"I always appreciate a man who remembers to open a door for a lady," she said dryly, stepping past him and into the Weiss kitchen.

"So much for doughnuts," Yohji said, closing the door behind her.

"Doughnuts?" Manx raised her eyebrows. "I suppose your next assignment can wait for the time it would take to run down to the bakery…"

"Ah…sure. Omi, you wanna run upstairs and get Aya?" Yohji gave the youngest Weiss a significant look, and was satisfied to watch the boy pale.

"A…actually, _I_ can go get the doughnuts!" Omi offered, scrambling up from his chair. "You know how unreliable Yotan is, Manx. If we send him, he'll be gone for _hours_!"

"So…I'll go wake up Aya, then?"

"Yes! _You_ go get Aya, and _I'll_ get breakfast!" Omi hurried out the door before anyone could argue.

Manx shook her head. "I'll never understand how you boys manage to have so much energy so early in the morning."

Ken was still buried in his coffee. Whatever his response was, it came out in an incomprehensible gurgle.

* * *

Aya's room was spattered with early morning shadows as Yohji tiptoed across the floor. He climbed back into the bed slowly, carefully, pressing himself snugly against Aya's back. He wrapped an arm around that slim body, pulling the man closer still. He smiled to himself, closing his eyes –

"Kudoh…" Aya's voice was thick with sleep, but he still managed to sound stern. He shifted in Yohji's arms, fighting against his embrace as he tried to turn around. Reluctantly, Yohji loosened his hold on him.

"Morning, gorgeous, Yohji grinned, brushing long bangs out of those stunning eyes.

Aya frowned. "What time is it?"

"Don't worry about time. We're fine…" Yohji couldn't stop himself. He leaned down to brush a kiss against Aya's lips and Aya, though still frowning, allowed it. "Yummy."

Aya tried to push him away. "We have our shift."

"I told you – we're fine." It would be at least twenty minutes for Om I to get to the bakery, place his order, and come back with the food. Probably more; the bakery closest to their shop was quite busy in the mornings.

Aya let him kiss him again, but refused to part his lips. When Yohji continued to press him, he turned his head away.

"I need to brush my teeth," he explained gruffly, blushing just the slightest bit. "I also need a shower."

"I think you're ravishing."

Aya refused to look at him, but the blush on his face grew darker. "_Idiot_," he mumbled fondly.

Yohji laughed and buried his face against Aya's shoulder. He was truly happy just being close to he intoxicating man. After a few moments he felt long fingers begin to pull themselves slowly through his hair. He knew then that he wouldn't be asked to leave.

"I wanted to let you sleep longer," he confessed.

"I'm fine."

"I don't believe that."

Aya was silent for a long moment. His hand stilled in Yohji's hair. "I…slept really well last night."

"Really? Must've been the company."

"Hn…" those hands began to move again. Yohji was in heaven.

Then Aya caught sight of the clock.

"Yohji!" Aya pushed at him, trying without much success to make the blonde move. "My shift starts in ten minutes!"

"Don't worry about it, baby."

"Don't wor - ? _Yohji_!"

"Let's fool around."

"Kudoh!"

In his struggled, Aya somehow managed to accidentally elbowed Yohji in the face, sending the blonde reeling back. He lost his balance and fell to the floor with a loud thunk. He saw spots for a moment, and when his vision at last cleared, there was Aya, above him on the bed with a concerned and guilty expression on his beautiful face.

"Yohji, I…"

"Vicious bastard!" he laughed, tasting blood on his bottom lip.

Relief flashed quickly across Aya's eyes. "I'm sorry."

"You know, abusing your boyfriend is a big no-no, sweetie."

"Are you all right?"

"Dunno. You better come kiss it and make it better."

Aya must have thought more guilty than he'd thought, because he actually complied, sliding off the bed to join Yohji on the floor. He was adorably shy as he kissed him, and did not try to stop him from deepening the kiss.

Yohji leaned back, pulling Aya with him, enjoying the feel of the smaller man. He slid his hands under Aya's shirt and slid them up the soft skin of his back and Aya let out the tiniest, most thrilling little noise…

The door opened and Aya sat up quickly, blushing. Yohji craned his head back to see Ken standing in the doorway with a hand covering his eyes – preventing him from having to see anything that would cause him to avoid making eye contact with them ever again.

"I thought you guys didn't want Krittiker finding out about your…er…whatever the hell it is you're doing," he said, speaking without removing his hand. "Manx is going to start wondering what's taking so long up here."

"Manx is here?" Aya demanded.

"Then what's _your_ excuse for coming up here?" Yohji countered.

"Told her I had to use the bathroom."

"Manx is here?" Aya asked again. He did _not_ sound happy.

"You p[rev. You just wanted to walk in on us doing something kinky."

"Yeah. You're right, Yohji. I just have my eyes covered because I'm a big fan of peek-a-boo."

"Manx is here and you're trying to fool around?" Aya's voice was cold enough to warn Yohji that he was really and truly angry. He rose, kicking Yohji once before stalking to the door, brushing past Ken without a word.

The athlete cautiously peeked out from between his fingers.

"Peek-a-boo?" Yohji asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Sh…shut the hell up!"

* * *

tbc

Thanks again everyone!


	5. Chapter 5

I didn't realize until recently that this mission sounds a lot like the first mission in "Fealty." That wasn't intentional. Apparently I suck at coming up with mission ideas more than I thought. Apologies.

* * *

Aya had always been an efficient and hard working little bastard. By the time Yohji and Ken got down to the kitchen, the slim man was already seated at the table nursing a mug of overly-sweetened coffee and flipping through the mission file as leisurely as if it was the morning paper. He was ignoring Manx, who was not-so-subtly snooping through their cabinets.

He also ignored his teammates as they came to join him at the table. Yohji had to restrain himself to keep from leaning over Aya's shoulder – teasing the man as he snuck a peek at the file. Manx may not have seen anything suspicious in the act, but Yohji didn't trust _himself_ – not after being in bed with Aya.

"How many boxes of ramen do you boys _have_?" Manx asked.

"Those are for when Yohji's too hungover to take his turn cooking," Ken offered the rather embarrassing explanation without hesitation.

"To his credit," Aya said, sounding utterly disinterested, "We haven't been forced to resort to that in a while."He turned page in the file, and went back to ignoring them.

"Ah?" Manx looked up from rifling through their silverware, surprise on her face. "So Kudoh is finally beginning to settle down?"

Aya froze. Yohji had a panicked moment of wracking his brain for a sufficiently flippant response and finding nothing, then Aya gave a soft laugh.

Purple eyes rolled up from the mission file to fix on Manx. "I didn't say _that_," he corrected, voice amused yet still not friendly enough to encourage further conversation.

Manx gave a shrug and moved to peer into their sugar jar.

By the time Omi returned with the doughnuts, Aya had finished reading the file and had pushed it over to Yohji. The blonde pretended to read it in order to hide his glance as he watched Aya rise and move to dump the remainder of his coffee out in the sink. Damn but the man was irresistible!

"Did you start without me?" Omi asked, eyeing the file in Yohji's hands as he set the boxes of doughnuts on the counter.

Aya rinsed out his mug and replaced the coffee with milk. "No."

"To be honest, I'm not entirely eager to give you this one," Manx was the first to reach the food. Yohji realized, as he watched her pile up her plate with one, two – _five_ – doughnuts, that she was nervous.

"Then why bother coming at all?" he wouldn't have had to wake up Aya if she'd just stayed away all morning.

Aya returned to the table with his milk and a single doughnut. Knowing the man as he did, Yohji was willing to bet that he'd chosen the smallest and plainest he could find.

"You wouldn't be here if Krittiker didn't find it important," Aya's voice was barely civil. He had no patience for people who hesitated.

It probably didn't help that he could have used more sleep, either.

Yohji rose and stretched, then shoved his hands deeply into his pockets to keep himself from touching Aya as he moved to get his own breakfast.

"What is it, Manx?" Omi asked, waiting for Ken to make his selection.

She sighed and slid the file back over to herself, flipping it open. "Pure and simple, it's a vengeance hit," she answered.

Raspberry-filled was Aya's favorite, wasn't it? No, wait, or was it boston-cream? Yohji received a dirty look from Ken as he reached over the still-indecisive athlete.

"Vengeance hit?" Omi echoed. He still hadn't gotten a turn with the food, so Yohji reached over Ken once again and snagged something for him.

"Bastard!" Ken grabbed the entire box and took what remained to the table. Yohji went for the coffee.

"We had a team investigating a small crime ring – nothing major, just a small chop shop, illegal guns trade, minor drug trafficking…"

"They were a non-lethal team?" Aya interrupted. He hadn't yet touched his doughnut. He ignored Yohji as the blonde sat next to him once again.

Manx nodded. "Their orders were to find the leader of the operation, then take them down. We thought the group was being funded by a local politician, but we hadn't yet uncovered any proof."

"I take it the team didn't make it?" Yohji asked.

"Two survived, although one has spent the last week in a coma," Manx flipped the file to the appropriate page, displaying the pictures of the two operatives. "He woke up yesterday. We think one of the two was the cause of the team's death."

"Like, one of them betrayed them?"

"Yes."

Ken frowned. "Would a guy who was a traitor let himself get so beat up it'd put him in a coma?"

"Would he let himself be the only one to walk away without a scratch?" Yohji countered.

"You're right. That _is_ suspicious."

"We want Weiss to question each survivor, as well as continue the investigation into the crime ring," Manx explained.

"And since they took out one of our teams, we get to forget about non-lethal force, right?" Yohji guessed.

She only nodded.

"Why didn't you wanna give this to us?" Ken asked. "That doesn't sound like such a hard mission."

"Weiss is almost strictly a strike team," Aya said darkly. "We deal in murder, not investigations."

"You don't trust us, Manx?" Omi actually sounded a little hurt.

"Weiss is the second team we've come to with this," Manx explained softly. "The first group backed out…something spooked them."

"More for us!" Ken grinned.

Manx's concerns didn't seem alleviated, but she didn't press the issue.

"How much does it pay?" Aya asked.

"Krittiker wants this done, and after the last team backed out on them…" Manx paused to wrap what remained of her breakfast in a napkin. Apparently she planned to take them with her when she left."It's double the usual."

Aya didn't hesitate.

"I'm in."

* * *

Manx was barely out the door before Yohji reached over and swapped his plate for Aya's. The smaller man blinked, momentarily confused, and looked at his boyfriend in question.

Said boyfriend merely grinned at him. "Eat up," he encouraged.

"But that one was mine."

"But _those_ are the ones you like!"

Aya blinked again, not comprehending.

"If you aren't hungry…" Ken began to reach for his plate.

"You wanna lose that hand?" Yohji asked jovially.

"Oh…oh!" Omi gave a start. "Ken, I…I think we better leave," he said, catching the meaning of the look as Aya's confusion began to fade into annoyance and as Yohji met said annoyance with a stubborn grin.

"Oh!" Ken finally caught on as well. He and Omi had both learned the warning signs of a brewing fight. He scrambled from his seat, nearly knocking it over in his hurry to Get The Hell Away.

"You need to eat," Yohji insisted pleasantly, ignoring the retreat of their teammates.

"I was going to." Aya reached for his original plate, and Yohji pulled it away.

"Why do you still do this, Aya? We both know you like the other ones better – what good does it do to deny yourself?"

"What business is it of yours?"

"I just want to see you enjoy yourself once in a while, that's all."

"And you think I'd enjoy them _now_?"

Yohji opened his mouth, then closed it. He frowned.

Aya forced himself to be the first to break the silence. He forced himself to soften his voice and break his glare from his boyfriend's face.

"I know you think you care about me," he began softly.

"Aya…"

" – but do you really want to have a fight about something as stupid as this right before a mission?"

Yohji grew silent. He licked his lips and ran a hand through his hair. This time when he smiled it was much more genuine.

"I just don't like it, Aya," he spoke softly as well, and suddenly their argument seemed more like an intimate conversation. "You seem to go out of your way to deny yourself even the smallest of pleasures. Aside from your books and your car, you don't do anything for yourself."

"Maybe I don't deserve it."

"Aya…"

He hadn't meant to say that, to admit to that particular weakness, and now Yohji was looking at him as if he'd just broken his heart. Aya found he very much wanted to leave the room, but his body refused to cooperate.

"I don't want to have this discussion, Yohji," and it came out a plea, for all that he wanted to sound strong.

The blonde sighed and leaned forward, resting his head on Aya's shoulder. "Do you have any idea how exhausting you are?"

"I'll eat a damn doughnut."

"That would make me feel better. Thanks."

He let a hand come up into those thick golden curls, and Yohji lifted his head, kissing him.

"You're so fucked up, Aya."

"I know."

Yohji's grin had returned, even more troublesome than before.

"Anyway, I've made it my personal duty to kick this denial habit of yours," he teased, watching intently as Aya selected a doughnut and took a careful bite.

Aya knew it would be crazy to humor him, but Yohji would be _so_ disappointed if he ignored him at this point. He rolled his eyes.

"And why have you done that?" he asked.

"Because it affects me personally!" the blonde pretended to be surprised by the question. "Haven't you realized?"

"Realized what?"

Yohji caught his hand as he reached up to wipe cream from his lip. Grinning, the blonde leaned in close to lick it away.

"Well," he spoke with his lips against Aya's skin, trailing them slowly along his cheek to his ear, then following down the line of his rapidly increasing pulse. He pulled at the collar of Aya's shirt, and as his lips moved to trace along the line of his collar bone, some of his long hair slipped down to tickle Aya's skin.

"_Yohji_…" he grabbed handfuls of golden hair and pulled, forcing him to pull back. Yohji met his glare with a roguish smile.

"If you stay hell-bent on denying yourself pleasure, I'll _never_ get into your pants!"

"I said I'd eat the doughnut, damn it!"

"Or we could just forget the doughnut and finish our discussion _upstairs_. You know, in my bedroom?"

"We have a mission to begin - !"

"You know," Yohji interrupted, "I _liked_ being in bed with you."

" – and we need to open the shop for a few hours, at least…"

"Seeing you all snuggly and defenseless and asleep is what made me start to want you in the first place."

_That_ caused Aya to forget his words.

"What?"

Yohji reached out to brush some of Aya's hair out of his face. "You always fought tooth and nail to be steel. Seeing you that time…it was the first time you were _human_."

"And…that's a good thing?"

"That's a _very_ good thing."

Aya closed his eyes for a moment, confused and overwhelmed by a sudden feeling of warmth.

"Aya? Shit…Aya, gods, I didn't mean to offend you - !"

"I'm…not offended."

"You're…angry?"

Aya opened his eyes. Yohji looked at him like he really did think he'd start another argument. His look of surprise when Aya kissed him actually made the smaller man laugh.

"I liked being in bed with you, too," he admitted.

"Yeah?" Yohji seemed unable to decide whether to continue to be surprised or to switch over to happy. "You wanna have a sleepover tonight?"

He did. Aya realized that he really, _really_ did.

"But only to _sleep_, Yohji," he warned. If he wasn't careful, the blonde would expect something he still wasn't prepared for.

"Sleep. Gotcha."

"I mean it, Yohji."

"Yeah, yeah, sure."

"Kudoh."

"I sleep naked, you know. Hey! You do too, don't you? We can be naked together!"

"Kudoh!"

* * *

tbc

Thanks again everyone!


	6. Chapter 6

Sorry for the long wait. Your patience is love.

* * *

"I really don't know _what_ went wrong…" the man in the hospital bed offered a weak smile and shook his head. "To be honest, I don't really remember much from that day at all."

As the youngest, friendliest, and least outwardly-threatening of the group, Omi had long ago been nominated as Weiss spokesperson during witness interviews. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, as seemingly comfortable as if he had known the man for years.

"What _can_ you tell us?" he asked gently.

The man was Teishi Kinou, aged twenty-eight. According to his file, he's been with Krittiker since the age of twelve. He'd been on his most recent team, acting as tactical advisor, for nearly three years. He had taken five bullets during the altercation that had destroyed his team.

"That's pretty convenient, don't you think?" Ken asked before Kinou had the chance to answer. He seemed completely oblivious to the Look Aya shot him. "You're one of the only two survivors and you just _happen_ not to remember anything?" His voice sounded like he was trying to impersonate a detective from an old movie – like at any moment he might pull out a pipe and start punctuating his sentences with "it's elementary!"

"Krittiker is my home and my teammates ar – _were_ – my family!" Kinou answered gravely. "I would never betray either!"

"And what about your buddy Aias Newell?" Ken prodded. "He survived too, didn't he?"

"Aias would _never_ - !"

"Pretty convenient, sticking up for him!" Ken held up a single finger. "You must be in cahoots!"

"Hidaka," Aya rose from his chair, voice and eyes cold. "Outside."

There was silence for several moments after the door closed behind them.

"Did he really just say 'cahoots'?" Yohji asked at last.

Omi didn't answer. His eyes were on Kinou, his expression compassionate. Kinou had his hands covering his face, and his shoulders were shaking.

"I know…know how it looks…" a sob broke him mid-sentence as he fought to compose himself. "But I would never…_Aias_ would never…! Why does it have o be that one of us is a traitor? Can't it just be good luck that _any_ of us survived? Can't…can't I just be happy that one of my friends is still alive and not look at him like some kind of criminal?"

Yohji caught Omi's eye and shook his head. They weren't going to get anything else out of Kinou today. He'd been a detective for too many years not to know when a witness had been pushed too far. They made their excuses to Kinou, who didn't seem to hear them, and left the room.

"We should try Newell's number again, see if we can get in touch with him yet," Yohji suggested as he closed the door behind them. He didn't even try to hide his snicker when they found Aya glaring at a sulking Ken further down the hall. It was nice not to be the one in trouble for once.

"Do you think he'll run?" Om I asked.

"Nah. I'm sure Krittiker's got a dozen guys watching him." Yohji tried to put his arm around Aya when he reached him, but the redhead shrugged him off.

"Anything?"

"Nah, we'll have to come back later."

"I'm sure it's not Ken's fault!" Omi added quickly. "Kinou's been through a lot, that's all! It's hard for him to talk about it right now!"

"Yeah…or he's just a really good liar," Yohji agreed cheerfully. "Do we have Newell's number with us, or not?"

"It's in the car."

"What if Newell's just as good an actor as Kinou?" Ken asked sullenly as they began to walk.

"Or if they're both innocent?" Omi countered.

"Yeah, sure."

"Maybe he'll have a clue?" Yohji suggested.

"I don't think the other team they put on this got spooked. I think they just gave up!" Ken shoved his hands deep into his pockets. "This mission is impossible!"

"You're just mad 'cause you got in trouble for showing your ass."

"Shut up, Yohji!"

"Anyone up for stopping somewhere for lunch?"

"Don't ignore me, you bastard!"

"Both of you shut up," Aya suggested.

"Look, Ayan!" Omi pointed to one of t doors they passed. "That patient has the same name as you!"

He only grunted, ignoring Omi's attempt to change the subject. He stalked past the door in question without so much as glancing at it.

* * *

"Hey, does this guy look familiar to you?"

"Yotan, please, I'm on the phone!" Omi waved him away.

"I could swear I've seen this guy again…" Yohji squinted at the picture in Aias Newell's file and leaned against the car. He raised an eyebrow in surprise when Aya sidled up next to him, but put his arm around him without question. "This guy look familiar to you, sweetheart?"

Aya shook his head silently.

"He's still not answering," Omi announced.

"Leave a message," Ken suggested.

"I guess we can go home and reopen the shop," Omi sighed.

"Do we have to?"

They all looked to Aya, who only shrugged. Yohji gave his shoulders a squeeze.

"I think we could all use some time off," the blonde announced, amazed by his luck when his boyfriend didn't argue. "I say, unless Newell calls, we just take it easy."

"I have to admit…that sounds amazing," Omi sighed.

Yohji squeezed Aya's shoulders again. "That okay with you?"

"…fine."

He laughed, charmed as always with his boyfriend's reticent ways, and moved to open the car door. After he climbed into the backseat, Aya followed. Yohji felt a moment of concern when the redhead snuggled up against him again. He glanced out the window, but Omi was preoccupied begging Ken to let him drive. For the moment, at least, they were alone.

"Everything okay, Aya?"

He was still for a moment, then slowly shook his head. Yohji frowned.

"You wanna talk about it?"

If he had planned to elaborate, Yohji would never know. Crowing with victory, Omi pulled open the driver's side door and got into the car.

"Better buckle up," Ken suggested darkly, getting in on the passenger's side.

"You're actually letting him do it?" Yohji reached for his seat belt, and Aya shifted away from him to allow him to secure it. "Either you're braver than I ever thought, or he's got some really great dirt on you."

There was a very good reason Omi didn't have his license yet. The nine driving instructors who had been hospitalized while trying to teach him would attest to that. So would that bus full of very unlucky tourists. And that poor, poor pizza delivery man. Who delivered pizza on a bike, anyway?

Yohji shivered and held Aya just a little more tightly.

* * *

"Hot."

The sound of the single-syllable warning caused Yohji to look up and he offered his boyfriend a smile. "Thanks, babe." He accepted the mug of instant soup Aya handed him, watching carefully as the slim man sat down, waiting for the opportunity to question his strange, quieter-than-usual mood.

After the terrifying ride home from the hospital, Omi and Ken had gone off to do whatever the hell it was they usually enjoyed doing during the rare moment of free time. With the house to themselves, Yohji and Aya had retreated to the living room.

As much as Yohji wanted to spend the down time cuddling, kissing, and 'playing' with Aya, two things held him back. The first thing was Aya's weird mood – which had now progressed from latching onto Yohji to avoiding his touch completely. The other thing was that Yohji still had the annoying niggling sense that he was overlooking something important about their mission.

It was depressing, but they were actually using this time of quiet and privacy to look over their mission file again. Yohji couldn't stand the sheer waste of it all.

"Soup smells good."

"It's powdered."

"Yeah, but it was hydrated with love, right?"

Aya made a noise that was somehow indistinguishable between a sigh and a grunt. It wasn't clear whether he was agreeing, disagreeing, annoyed, or amused.

Yohji bent his head to the mission file, pretending to read while all the while watching his boyfriend through the screen of his lashes.

"So…" he drawled casually, fingering a bent edge of one of the papers. "You gonna talk to me any time soon, or what?"

"I haven't discovered anything new about the mission."

"We both know that isn't what I was talking about."

Aya frowned. He held his own mug of soup clasped between both hands as if warming them and hadn't yet so much as tasted it.

"We talked about this, Aya," Yohji turned a page and continued to pretend to read. It took all of his control to keep his voice light and vaguely disinterested. "I thought you were gonna start sharing with me."

Still Aya didn't answer. He stared down at his soup, eyes distant.

Yohji turned another page. He had to force his next words out. "Do you even care about me at all?"

"What…am I supposed to talk about?"

Gods but he wanted to launch himself across the coffee table and shake the man – or kiss him senseless, or torture him with pleasure until he relented all his secrets. His voice had been so quiet, so devoid of emotion, so damned typical.

"This mood."

"What mood?"

"Cut the shit, Aya!"

Aya looked up in surprise. Yohji stared at him hard, frustrated beyond belief.

"Don't you even get how difficult you make this?" he demanded. It took all of his strength to stop himself from saying more. Though they hadn't been dating long, their relationship had already proven itself to be a turbulent one. Yohji had resigned himself to the fact kissing one moment and fighting the next would probably be the norm for them.

But he didn't have the heart to yell at him right now – not after the way Aya had clung to him on the way home.

"I'm sorry," Aya said softly, and the rare apology made Yohji feel even more guilty for his outburst.

"Aya…" the blonde began.

"I want to leave," Aya interrupted. His voice wasn't exactly cold, but it wasn't friendly either. "Is that honest enough for you?"

"What - ?"

He rose, leaving the mission file where it lay and his soup still untouched. Yohji was too surprised to do anything more than stare at him.

"Can I come?" he managed to ask.

"No."

He didn't kiss Yohji, didn't even say goodbye. He just left.

* * *

The nurses had wanted to talk to him about the friends he'd brought with him earlier that day, and they'd wanted to ask about the 'friend' he'd been visiting. They'd wanted to know why he hadn't stopped in to see his sister while he'd been there earlier.

He'd never done anything to encourage them to socialize with him, and after a few moments of his usual glares and monosyllabic answers, they'd left him alone. Nevertheless, he vowed not to leave until after their shift change – in order to avoid having to talk to them on his way out.

He'd wanted to apologize to Aya for not stopping in to see her when he was at the hospital with Weiss. He wanted to let her know that he was thinking about introducing her to Yohji. Mostly he wanted to tell her about their mission, to confess the sudden, gripping fear that Weiss – that _Yohji_ – might meet the same fate as the other team.

Instead he just sat down in the chair by the window and watched her in her endless sleep, unable to utter even the smallest whisper. Evening stretched into night, the shadows stretching slowly across her fair features. Aya kept his mind blank, unable or unwilling to touch on any of the dark thoughts that habitually plagued him. Over the years, Aya's room had taken on an almost church-like atmosphere for him; he let that peace lull him now.

By the time he finally roused himself, it was nearly three in the morning. His calm stayed with him as he bent to kiss his sister's forehead and slipped from the room. He briefly considered, then discarded the idea of slipping in to look in on Kinou. Aya knew he didn't have the kind of personality to earn the injured man's trust and make him talk and anyway, stopping would just make him think again and he was in no way ready to do that yet.

The parking deck was quiet and empty, the streets deserted. Aya made it home in less than half the time it usually took him. The house was dark and quiet.

By the time Aya reached his bedroom, he was tired of being alone. Without really thinking about it, the small swordsman grabbed his pillow and headed for Yohji's room.

The blonde was a surprisingly light sleeper. He stirred when the door opened, and when the light from the hallway fell across his face, his eyelids began to flutter.

Aya quickly closed the door. In the darkness, he stripped down to his underwear. After several moments of hesitation, he pulled them off too. Feeling brave, he padded to the bed.

"Mm…Aya?"

He froze, kneeling on the bed. For the first time, he began to doubt his actions.

"We talked about…me joining you," he explained with difficulty. "Is it…is it okay?"

"Yeah…yeah!" Yohji's voice, heavy with sleep, was still a little confused, but he shifted over to give Aya more room, pulling the sheets down for him. Aya's hands were shaking as he climbed into the bed. "Tried t' stay up for you," Yohji explained, shifting so he could wrap his arms around him.

"It's fine," Aya whispered, enjoying the intimacy of their voices in the darkness almost as much as he enjoyed the feeling of those arms. "You've been working hard."

"Mmm…" Yohji nuzzled his hair, shifting even closer. "Thought maybe you were mad at me," he mumbled, already half asleep again.

"No."

"Mm…glad."

"I…went to see my sister."

"Mm?"

Aya shifted a little to get more comfortable. Yohji's arms tightened around him, but it was clear the man was almost back in dreamland. Aya snorted softly. It figured that the one time he actually _wanted_ to talk, Yohji was beyond the ability to pay attention.

"Yohji?"

"Mm?"

"I _do_ care for you. You know that…right?"

"Mm…"

"I…might even love you…a little."

"Mmhmm…"

"Don't…don't die or anything…all right?"

"Mm…"

Aya sighed and shifted closer. Pressed skin to skin against his boyfriend, the scent of his cologne filling his senses, he let himself fall into a sweet, untroubled sleep.

* * *

tbc


	7. Chapter 7

"You're naked."

Aya frowned, scrunching up his nose in a way that would have been unbearably adorable had it not been for the fact there were more interesting things to pay attention to.

"Am not."

Yohji itched to pull the sheets down to take a peek. Instead he shifted against Aya, experimentally rubbing himself against him and finding absolutely nothing in the way.

"Yeah, you are."

Aya shifted away, still frowning. "Kudoh, I'm sleeping. Either join me, or get out of the bed."

"You can't kick me out of my own bed," Yohji pouted, sitting up. And what _was_ Aya doing in his bed, anyway? Yohji had a hazy memory of him coming into the room last night, but he'd honestly thought it was a dream. "When did you get home, anyway?"

"Nh."

Yohji crossed his arms to keep from reaching for the blanket. There was no way he'd be able to go back to sleep with Aya in his bed. Aya _naked_ in his bed.

"Aw, hell," control be damned. Yohji grabbed the blanket and pulled it quickly away.

One violet eye cracked open to glare at him.

Yohji barely noticed.

"Damn, Aya. Are you trying to kill me?" shit but he was even more perfect than he remembered. Yohji shifted to attempt to hide his reaction, and that was when Aya noticed he wasn't the only one who'd chosen to sleep in the buff.

"Kudoh!" he was awake now, scrambling to hide himself behind a pillow. He shoved a second pillow at Yohji, who only laughed.

"I warned you I slept nude. Why would you get undressed if you forgot?"

"I'd be fine if you'd stop looking at me like that!"

"Like what? Like I want you?" Yohji reached for him and Aya slapped the offending hand away, glaring.

"My being here isn't about that!"

"Then what is it about?"

He slapped away another searching hand. "I'm trying to give you something!"

"Your virginity?"

"Kudoh!"

But there was just the tiniest bit of laughter in his voice. Yohji knew that Aya was in a good mood. He took his chance and pounced.

Aya let him kiss him, even let him run his hands along his body, though the pillow he'd shoved in his lap remained firmly in place, separating them from that last, most crucial point of contact. Yohji grinned against Aya's lips.

"If you don't want me to want you, you shouldn't have been grinding all of this against me all night – what do you think woke me up in the first place?"

"I don't know whether to be flattered or disgusted."

"Baby, don't you have any idea how many people would _kill_ to have this golden god wake them up all ready and eager?"

Aya actually laughed. His eyes were light with mirth, his smile breathtaking. Yohji kissed him again, brushing hair back away from his face.

"You're so beautiful, Aya."

"You've already got me naked in your bed. You don't need to try to flatter me."

"Though it'd be cuter if you'd blush and look embarrassed. Sarcasm isn't all that sexy."

"If you're complaining…"

"Does this mean you're willing to fool around a little?"

Aya blinked rapidly, his eyes going wide. He was too surprised to answer. Yohji took the opportunity presenting itself to lean down, lightly running his tongue across Aya's skin from the flesh under his right ear to the hollow of his throat. Gods! Aya-fucking-Fujimiya was in his bed _and he was naked_ and the only thing separating them was a single-fucking-pillow.

"Did you just lick me?"

"Come on, let me play! Just a little?" Yohji suggested, half pleading, tracing his lips against one collar bone and dancing his fingers along the long line of the man's side. There was no mistaking it when Aya shivered.

"Yohji…"

"I promise to stop the second you tell me to!" he swore, kissing his shoulder. He began to tug on the pillow.

"Would you…be able to?"

It would kill him to have to stop once he got started, but he didn't care. It would be even more unbearable if he had to walk away without even a little taste…

"Please, Aya?"

He wasn't arguing. Gods, he wasn't arguing! Yohji sat back on his heels and caught the look as Aya's eyes roamed over his body. The look in his eyes…gods! Aya _wanted_ him. Aya-fucking-Fujimiya wanted _him_!"

He grabbed the pillow and flung it away and then there was absolutely nothing to hide Aya's body from him. He was breathtaking in his beauty, all pale, sharp planes and tightly-muscled limbs and oh – oh, yes, _he wanted him_.

With a growl Yohji climbed across that beautiful body, crushing their pelvises together as he kissed him fiercely – and Aya's arms were tight around him, hands buried deeply in his hair.

"Hey, Yohji?" there was a compulsory knock on the door, then the handle began to turn. Yohji broke away from Aya painfully. "You up ye - ?"

"Don't open that door!" he snapped.

There was silence for a moment, then they heard a muffled curse from the hallway. "You're not alone, are you?"

"Real genius, aren't you?" Yohji raked a hand back through his hair, staring down at Aya. He wanted the man so badly he could barely stand it, but Aya's lovely face had gone blank. "Ken, if you're still out there, I might have to kill you!"

"You want to keep yelling through the door?"

Aya's face was still unreadable. Yohji kissed him apologetically, but he didn't respond.

"Damn it all to hell!" Yohji didn't bother to cover up before he stalked to the door and swung it violently open.

Ken was smarter than Yohji liked to give him credit for. He was waiting in the hall with his back to the door, shielding himself from any potential nudity.

"What the hell is so fucking important?" Yohji snarled.

"I'm not sure I even want to know, but…is Aya there with you?"

"What business of it is yours?"

"Aside from the fact he'd probably gut you for cheating on him?"

"Maybe I was _alone_ in there."

"That's the most disturbing possibility of all."

Yohji crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. "Well?" he demanded. "I'll pass on whatever you want Aya to hear – just spill it so I can get back to bed."

"So he _is_ in there?"

"If he was, do you really think he'd want me to tell you?"

Ken shifted as if to turn around, then stopped himself as if he thought better of it. "I guess not."

"So get on with it already; I wanna get back to bed."

"It's useless to try – Omi finally got ahold of Newell."

"Newell? Who the fu…oh, you mean the other survivor?"

"He's coming over for lunch; Omi thinks an informal interview will make him more likely to trust us."

"So, good. We'll be done by lunch." Yohji began to close the door. Ken turned to stop him, and immediately looked like he regretted it.

"Damn it, Yohji! You couldn't _warn_ me that you were naked?"

"Your fault for bugging me," Yohji began to close the door again. Ken stuck his foot in the way.

"Do you know what time it is?" Ken demanded, resolutely staring up at the ceiling. "Newell's gonna be here in less than an hour. You don't have time to go back to sleep."

"Maybe I'm not planning to sleep."

"Ew."

"Hidaka," Ken jumped at the sound of Aya's voice, his gaze involuntarily leaping from the ceiling to the man approaching behind Yohji. When his face grew a painful shade of red, Yohji knew he had to turn and look for himself.

Aya was ethereal. Like an angel from a Renaissance painting, he was swathed in the billowing white sheet from Yohji's bed, obscuring all but one smooth, bare shoulder. The sunlight coming in through the window shone off his pale skin and tousled hair from behind, making him nearly glow.

Yohji found himself grinning like an idiot. The grin only widened when he felt Aya's hand on his arm.

"Does Omi need us to do anything to help prepare for Newell?" Aya asked, pulling a little on Yohji's arm to get him away from the door.

"Just bring your notes, I guess."

"Then we'll be down soon." He closed the door in Ken's face. Yohji's hands were searching for a way under the sheet before the latch even clicked.

It was Aya who kissed him. Aya who fell back against the closed door, pulling Yohji along with him. Yohji's hand finally found its way under the sheet and Aya was…_Aya_ was…

Aya broke away from the kiss with the tiniest, most delicious of gasps.

Yohji thought he was going to die.

"Damn it!" he shoved at Aya, forcing him back even more closely against the door, pulling the edges of the sheet apart to reveal Aya's lean, nude form. "We don't have time to finish this the way I want. I don't want to rush this…" despite his words he was already kissing Aya again: chest, shoulder, neck, jaw, lips –

"What…" Aya's eyes were dark with lust, his expression completely lacking in its usual coldness. "What is it you want to do?"

"_Everything_!" it was almost an attack – hands and lips searching, exploring. The strength of his need surprised him – even frightened him a little. He'd wanted Aya for a long time. Even before they'd begun dating…before they'd started their odd little friendship…hell, even before he'd even been able to think of the man as human…yes, even when Aya had just been the cold and intimidating leader of Weiss, Yohji had indulged in the occasional fantasy about the man.

Okay, _more_ than occasional fantasy.

Was that it? So much time wanting, _waiting_, and now that he finally had his hands on him he couldn't control himself?

It wasn't just Aya's body – work of art though it was. It was Aya's _reaction_ to him. Aya was _responding_ to him. Aya _wanted_ him. Aya wasn't asking him to stop.

It couldn't only be that, either, though – or at least not _only_ that. To have such a strong reaction…for it to mean so much to him…

Yohji forced his hands to still. His breath came out harsh and heavy as he rested his forehead against Aya's shoulder.

"Tell me this won't be my only chance," he whispered, trying, without much success, to cool his body down.

Aya wasn't helping. He slid his fingertips upwards, tracing a line from the small of Yohji's back to his shoulders, making the blonde shiver and shift his body even closer.

"What are you talking about?"

"Promise me that this isn't some fluke…promise this isn't the only time you're gonna want me…"

"Is that what you think of me?" Aya's voice was soft, but not offended. Almost introspective. "Am I that fickle?"

Yohji couldn't help but to laugh – a short, harsh sound. "Let's just say…you usually aren't this receptive to my advances."

Aya's hands slid up into his hair. Yohji pressed closer, but Aya's body wasn't responding anymore.

"We wouldn't…be here…if I didn't want you."

"Is that a promise?"

Aya didn't answer.

Yohji felt cold as he drew away. His hands shook as he pulled the sheet back up, wrapping Aya's body gently, hiding that beautiful form from himself.

"A raincheck, then?" he asked, kissing Aya lightly on the lips.

The smaller man smiled - just a slight upturn of his lips. He kissed Yohji back. "You're still hard," he pointed out, slightly teasing but mostly shy. As if in response to the man's words, another flash of desire surged through the blonde's body, nearly stealing his breath. Gods – he was going to _die_ if he stayed near the man much longer!

"I'll take a cold shower real quick."

Aya nodded. His eyes drifted down Yohji's body, lingering for a moment.

"Are you_ trying_ to kill me?" Yohji demanded, giving a desperate-sounding laugh.

Of all the things Yohji expected, it wasn't to see Aya smile.

"I'm leaving," he promised. His eyes raked over Yohji one last time. "You look good, Yohji."

"You _are_ trying to kill me!"

Aya opened the door and began to leave, then stopped.

"Yohji?" he asked, his back still to him. "It won't bother me if you want to think of me…while you're in that shower."

And then he was gone. Yohji's knees nearly gave out.

* * *

tbc

Poor Yohji.


	8. Chapter 8

Sorry for the wait. Please enjoy. We're slowly beginning to move into plot territory now.

* * *

Aya normally wasn't normally much of a coffee drinker. He preferred teas – something light and natural and either low or lacking entirely in stimulants such as caffeine or sugar. Coffee was exactly the opposite of what he liked – rich, dark, full of caffeine, and utterly unpalatable to him unless it was loaded with cream and sugar.

This morning, however, after getting dressed and giving himself a few private moments to compose himself, he went down to the kitchen and downed an entire cup of black coffee without even tasting it.

He needed something to clear his head. He was confused, disoriented. He hadn't accounted for lust when he'd begun to date Yohji. The decision had been rash in and of itself. Of course he'd _wanted_ him. In some vague, formless sort of way, watching the sway of those sharp hips in those sinfully tight pants, Aya had always looked at Yohji and found himself wanting…something.

But this wasn't secret fantasies guiltily in indulged in on only the longest and most restless of nights. This was real, and he'd never once imagined how his body would respond…how overwhelming it would be…how…

Aya eyed the coffee pot and contemplated another cup.

"Ah! You're up, Ayan?"

"We got Ken's message."

Omi couldn't quite look at him without blushing. Clearly, Hidaka had felt like sharing. Wonderful.

"I was wondering if I should fix some snacks," Omi said, voice only betraying his embarrassment a little bit. He could still offer Aya his bright smile, still look him – _mostly_ – in the eye. He was trying very hard to keep things from becoming weird.

Aya was grateful for that.

"Snacks for Newell?" Aya asked.

"I know! I know!" Omi laughed – strained, but still laughter. "I could be feeding the traitor! But…it feels wrong not to have something prepared."

Aya crossed his arms and leaned against the counter. He would not glare at Omi. He would _not_.

"Why is a suspect coming over to our house for questioning?" he asked. Despite his best efforts, his voice came out a little cold.

"He was the one to suggest it," Omi blinked large eyes at him. "Ayan…he knew where we lived. He said he got the information from Krittiker."

"And we decided it would be better to face him on home turf," Ken added, coming into the kitchen with a rather pungent basket of laundry. "I still don't understand why we gotta clean the house, though."

"That has nothing to do with Newell," Omi said dismissively. "I just couldn't stand the stink any longer."

"C'mon, it's not that bad!"

"I could smell it from the basement!"

Ken gave his clothes a sniff, then shrugged. He continued on his way to the laundry room.

Aya fought the urge to lose his temper.

It wasn't his teammates' faults if Krittiker's security was so lax they would give an agent suspected of treason access to Weiss' personal information. It wasn't like Krittiker to miss something that could be so potentially devastating, but it was probably due to some protocol loophole no one had bothered to consider.

The truth was that he suspected his annoyance stemmed from having his time with Yohji interrupted – and that annoyed him more than anything else.

"Ayan, do you want to help me chop vegetables?"

"Hn." Omi was brave enough to offer him a knife at a time like this – but at least it was one way to work out his frustrations.

It was several more moments before Aya heard the sound of the water being turned on upstairs. The plumbing in their home was old; from anywhere in the house one could hear the pipes working any time someone used a sink, took a shower, or flushed a toilet. When Aya was feeling particularly paranoid, it helped him to keep track of where his teammates were in the house.

This morning it only served as a glaring reminder that Ken had found him in a very naked Yohji's room this morning. The blonde's absence from the kitchen was suddenly conspicuous. Would their teammates assume he needed to clean up? As much as t bothered him that they might know what had happened upstairs, it bothered him more that they might think _more_ had happened. He couldn't try to explain; anything he could say would just sound like an excuse.

His reaction annoyed him. It was immature and unacceptable. What was he going to do when they actually _were_ sleeping together?

That idea stopped him. He'd almost had sex with Yohji. It meant something different to him now that the last vestiges of adrenaline and lust were wearing off. He had _wanted_ to have sex with Yohji. He really trusted him that much. Even after last night, the extent of his feelings hadn't been clear. But he hadn't even _hesitated_, had he? Only moments ago he'd been anticipating their next opportunity to be alone.

He jumped when he heard the tell-tale trample of Yohji's feet on the stairs; he hadn't even noticed it when the water had turned off.

"Ayan!" Omi grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the cutting board. He flipped on the faucet at the sink and thrust Aya's hand under the running water. Aya stared at the blood swirling down the drain without really comprehending.

"Good morning, everybody!" Yohji's voice rang out cheerfully. Aya could barely hear Omi reassuring him that the cut didn't look very deep.

"More like afternoon!" Ken corrected from the laundry room.

Aya couldn't look at Yohji – he was afraid of what he would feel. He let Omi dry and disinfect the cut, and even let him cover it with a brightly colored band-aid decorated with cartoon kittens.

"You shouldn't be so careless," Omi was scolding him.

Aya felt an arm slide around his waist from behind. "What's goin' on over here?" Yohji asked, pressing his body far too close and hooking his chin over his shoulder.

Aya held up the injured digit. "Apparently, I cut myself."

"Aw, poor baby…" Yohji's free hand took hold of Aya's wounded one and pulled it closer, laying a light kiss atop the band-aid.

Omi found an excuse to get away from them quickly.

"Good morning," Yohji muttered again, voice low and intimate.

Aya took a deep breath and turned to face his boyfriend. He blinked in surprise. Yohji was just…Yohji. Beautiful, sexy as hell, but just Yohji. There were no birds singing, no rose-colored, fuzzy lights, no sudden urge to throw everything else to the wind.

Aya was relieved.

"Morning," he returned, offering Yohji a smile. The blonde seemed delighted.

Aya slipped out of his embrace.

"Newell will be arriving soon…"

"Yeah, yeah, and we don't want a non-Weiss Krittiker agent to know we're dating," Yohji interrupted with a shrug and a cheeky grin. "I get it."

"So you'll behave?" Aya asked doubtfully. "Just like that?"

"Hey, if my cute little Ayan asks me to do something, I do it."

"Yohji."

He grew serious, eyes warm and fond and sincere. "I'll _try_," he amended.

"At least that's an honest answer," Aya sighed.

Omi, unobtrusively arranging the vegetables Aya had been cutting on a tray, gave a sudden giggle, earning their attention.

"It's nothing!" he laughed even harder under their stares. "I'm sorry…it's just…you're so cute! Together," he added when they exchanged confused glances. "When Ken told me you were dating and when he told me about all of his worries about what it would mean for Wiess…I didn't know what to think."

"And now you finally made a decision?" Yohji drawled.

Omi nodded emphatically. "Now I think it's good for you."

"Because we're cute?"

"Yep!"

"I think I'm gonna be sick!" Ken called from the laundry room.

"You're cleaning it up if you are!" Omi called back. "Yotan, will you get the ranch dressing out of the fridge for me?"

"Sure thing, chibi."

Aya's eyes followed Yohji as the blonde moved across the room. His hair was still damp from the shower, and kept falling into his face in wet ringlets. He was dressed in a simple red t-shirt and a pair of jeans that actually fit correctly. Aya smiled to himself – Yohji didn't need his usual slutty clothes to be sexy. It seemed it was simply an innate quality that could not be hidden.

Omi gave him a knowing look and Aya abruptly wiped all expression from his face.

They all jumped when a knock sounded at the kitchen door. Ken stuck his head out of the laundry room.

"You want me to get it?"

"You aren't leaving that room until all of your nasty clothes are in the washer!" Omi answered, enough annoyance in his voice to make it clear that they'd probably argued about this earlier. Wiping his hands on his jeans, the youngest Weiss went to answer the door.

* * *

"I tried the shop door first, but it was locked."

Yohji frowned at the voice that greeted Omi. Light, friendly, and somehow familiar – it made the skin on the back of his neck crawl that he couldn't place it.

"We're closed today – and we can't hear the bell from back here." Omi's voice was friendly too. He needed to learn to stop being so damned nice to possible targets. "Please, come in, come in."

"You must be Bombay…Tsukiyono, right?"

"Er…that's right…"

"I couldn't get ahold of your pictures, but I asked around for your descriptions. I'm sorry we had to meet under such circumstances."

Yohji decided he needed a beer. He grabbed one from the fridge before turning around –

And nearly dropped it in surprise.

"_You?_"

Aias Newell was a tall brunette with green eyes, a handsome but unshaven face, and hair that fell just a chin length. He was also the asshole who had caused the waitress to spill coffee on Aya the other morning at breakfast.

He blinked at Yohji, not seeming to recognize him, then brightened when his eye fell on Aya.

"Oh, it's you two!" he exclaimed cheerfully. "What a weird coincidence!"

"Weird my ass – did you follow us, asshole?"

"Follow…? I didn't even know about your team that day!"

"Wait – what happened?" Omi asked.

"An accident," Aya's cold tone signaled an end to the discussion. He eyes Newell for a moment before giving the smallest of nods.

Newell grinned slowly. "Beautiful, but icy. _You_ must be Fujimiya."

The man only grunted, the sound bearing neither affirmation nor rejection. He looked annoyed, but for Aya that was hardly par from the course. Yohji resisted the urge to move closer to him; the look Newell was giving his boyfriend made Yohji want to throw his arms around the smaller man and shout 'mine!'

"Please – why don't we sit down?" Omi suggested, eyeing the exchange with a frown. "Can I get you anything? A drink? A snack?"

"You kitties are surprisingly accommodating for a suspect," Newell chuckled, sitting down at the table.

"That's only because we have Siberian locked in the laundry room."

* * *

tbc


End file.
